The Black Oyster
by I found my Mr. Darcy
Summary: Liz drunk dials her boss, Will Darcy and they meet up in a bar. Some foul language. Brief reference to Charlotte/Caroline pairing. D&E HEA


The P&P characters do not belong to me, but this story does! This piece was heavily influenced by a scene in Robert Galbraith's "Career of Evil" I read it and thought it perfectly suited a modern D&E.

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Will Darcy stepped into the bar and waited for his eyes to adjust. It was after 8 p.m., but the summer sun was still bright outside. He glanced around and wondered why she had come here of all places. The Black Oyster was the epitome of a dive. He wrinkled his nose almost involuntarily as he took in the dark and smoky interior. There were a few tables scattered around the room and a bar that had never seen good days. He continued to scan the room and finally spotted her in a back corner nursing what looked like a very bad scotch. He made his way gingerly to her table, signaling the waitress as he went.

"Liz?" Her name was both greeting and question.

She looked at him through red, swollen eyes. "Why're you here?"

He was confused. "Should I not be? You did call." He wondered why it always had to be complicated with her.

She glared in response. "I called to say I wouldn't be in tomorrow. I did _not_ ask you to come!" Elizabeth swore to herself and questioned her judgement for the hundredth time that night.

"I suppose not, but you sounded…unwell." He looked her over as he spoke. When he noticed her engagement ring was absent, he knew he should not feel as happy as he did.

She barked a humorless laugh, but didn't reply. The silence might have become awkward if not for the arrival of their waitress. Darcy ordered scotch against his better judgement, then looked to Elizabeth. She ordered another and scowled at his look of concern.

"Have you eaten?" He asked.

"Are you my mother now? Forget I said that. Not even you could be that bad. No, Mr. Darcy, I have not eaten. Nor do I want to." She raised her nearly empty glass in a mock toast, "I want to drink."

Darcy turned his gaze to the waitress, took in her nametag and asked, "What do you have for food, Zoey?"

Zoey rattled off a list of greasy, fried food options, but Elizabeth interrupted before she could finish. "Just wings, the hotter, the better, please."

"Sure, hon." She turned flirty eyes to Darcy and asked, "Anything for you?"

Darcy was certain eating anything from the Black Oyster's kitchen would result in immediate food poisoning and so declined the offer. He waited until a disappointed Zoey walked away before asking Liz, "Where is your ring?"

"Fuck off. You don't get to ask that." Liz downed the last of her drink and glowered at him, daring his response.

He just looked at her. "You drunk dial me, crying and barely coherent, and I don't get to ask?"

Her eyes turned stony and she asked, "How's Carrie?"

"Not relevant," was his curt reply.

"Exactly. We don't do personal, _Mister_ Darcy. Your rules. Remember?" She admitted a selfish satisfaction in the flicker of irritation that passed over his face.

"Fair enough," he answered curtly. He looked to her overnight bag on the floor and remembered she and Colin were supposed to be out of town over the weekend. "Where are you staying tonight?"

"At the…at the…" She peered blearily at her cell and tried to read the screen. The words would not hold steady, so she handed him the phone. "Here. I'm staying here."

Darcy glanced at the proffered screen and was appalled. "A Motel 6 Liz? Seriously?"

She glared at him, "Yes, Mr. Boss Man. Seriously. They take cash and don't ask questions."

Darcy blanched. She. Could. Not. Stay. There. It was absolutely out of the question. Once again, he was saved by the arrival of Zoey. She placed Liz's food and both their drinks on the table, making sure to lean just a little low so she could whisper to Darcy, "If she's too blind to see what's in front of her, call me." She tucked a slip of paper under his drink and sashayed away from the table. Darcy flicked the paper to the floor.

Despite her early protestations, Liz began devouring her food the moment it arrived. He took advantage of her distraction to book a room at Chrome, an upscale hotel near downtown. He hesitantly sipped his drink and was unsurprised to find it revolting. He pushed it aside and waited in silence while she ate.

Finally, Liz paused long enough to speak. She wiped hot sauce from her mouth and asked, "Why did you come Mr. Darcy? Why not just…oh God! Oh, no! You're not going to fire me are you? Because I really don't think you can do that. At least not just because I called you. Can you? No, no, you can't. I'd have to move. I'd have to go back to my mother's." Liz's voice rose in pitch as panic took over.

Darcy placed a calming hand on her forearm, "Liz. Stop. I didn't drive all the way out to this….place to fire you."

"Oh. Well, that's good then. Nevermind."

He gestured to the pile of discarded bones in front of her, "Would you like some more food?"

"I would like another drink."

"Coke, perhaps? Or ginger ale?"

Liz looked at her glass. "Maybe you're right. Coke. And a burger."

Certain Liz would get food poisoning, but unwilling to end their encounter, Darcy signaled Zoey again and ordered two cokes along with Liz's food. He stubbornly ignored the hurt look on Zoey's face when he declined to chat with her.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Liz demanded.

Darcy was taken back. Wasn't he always nice to her? Okay, so he couldn't stand hearing about her putz fiancé, he thought her family was a train wreck, and he therefore generally kept their conversation limited to work. But that didn't mean he wasn't nice. Did it? He didn't answer her, because he had no idea what to say.

"Just, don't be nice. I don't think I can stand it if you're nice."

He was genuinely puzzled. "How should I be then?"

"Just be…normal. You know, be you." Her reply did nothing to alleviate his confusion.

"And what is normal?"

"You know. Be you. Abrupt, silent, disapproving, taciturn. Normal." She spoke as a teacher to a particularly slow student.

Darcy said nothing. He was trying to digest her description of him. Abrupt? Well, he didn't engage in much small talk. Silent? Maybe. But disapproving? Of her? Never.

"See," she said. "Like that. Just as you are now. Be that way. Because that, I can understand." Sensing she had more to say, Darcy remained silent.

The food came and Liz began picking at it. After several minutes she said, "He's fucking her you know."

Darcy said nothing. He was still trying to figure out who the 'he' and 'she' in question were. He suspected that 'he' was likely the putz.

"Yep. Good old reliable Colin is fucking his assistant. Has been for two years. And my mother thinks it's my fault. Says I should buy some trashy lingerie and beg him to take me back."

Briefly distracted by the thought of his assistant in trashy lingerie, Darcy nearly missed his opportunity to respond. "He's a putz." He knew he should tread lightly. Liz and Colin had been together off and on for years. She might forgive the guy and take him back. Then she'd remember that her boss called her fiancé a putz and he would lose….well, he would lose the best damned assistant he'd ever had. "How did you find out?"

"We had a fight." She looked up, meeting his eyes. "About you, actually. Not you, really, just the job. He was pissed about the trip to LA next week. He accused me of being more committed to the job than to our relationship. Then he said it was no wonder he had turned to Char in, and I am quoting him here, 'his hour of need.'"

"Wow. His hour of need?"

"17,520 hours of need apparently." Silence reigned for several minutes before she spoke again. "It's in a storm drain, by the way."

"What is?"

"My ring." She laughed a little and continued, "I threw it at his big, stupid, head and it bounced off him and went down the grate. He was still looking for it and calling me a bitch when I took the cab we'd ordered for the airport and left. I called my mother, who agreed with him by the way, and came here. And now you know the whole, sad, story of my night."

"They were wrong; you're not a bitch."

"Thanks for that. You know, you're not all that bad when you're nice. I mean, you've always been okay to work for, even if you don't really like me, but when you're nice, like now? You're an okay guy."

"We should go." He fished out his wallet as he started to stand.

"We?"

"Yes, we. I'm not leaving a drunk woman to her own devices in this godforsaken neighborhood." He put cash on the table and picked up her bag.

"I don't need a damned bodyguard. I'll get a cab."

Like hell, he thought. Out loud he said, "My driver is circling the block."

"Of course he is." Liz sighed, suddenly too tired to argue, and followed her boss out of the bar. She dozed off in the car so it wasn't until he woke her that realized where they were. She looked up at the hotel. "This is not the Motel 6."

He chuckled, "Your keen observation skills are only one of the reasons I hired you."

She rolled her eyes, then looked at him. "Did you just make a joke?"

He smiled, and her heart unaccountably flipped. "I suppose I did."

She shook her head, "I'm not staying here."

"Why not?"

She crossed her arms, lifted her chin and said, "I can't afford it and I won't take your charity."

"Consider it part of your benefits package. Besides, I already paid for the room and I know you hate to be wasteful." He smirked.

She sighed. "Fine. Put that way, I suppose one night would be okay."

He exited the car behind her and handed her bag to the waiting bellhop along with a generous tip. Then he escorted her inside, made sure she was checked in and walked her to the elevator. The doors opened and she stepped inside.

"Goodnight, Liz."

"Goodnight, Mr. Darcy."

"Oh, and Liz?" He asked as the doors closed.

"Yes?"

"I do really like you."

Of course, they lived happily ever after. Colin and Char married, then divorced when she had an affair with Carrie, Will's ex-girlfriend. Will and Liz married a year after he came to her rescue. They laughed, and loved; raised a family and traveled, and every year they went back to the Black Oyster for bad scotch, Coke, and wings.

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Your comments make me swoon!


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